


Is leatsa mo shaol

by lauwrite



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauwrite/pseuds/lauwrite
Summary: Wihtgar, Uhtred’s bastard cousin, is now pointing his crossbow in Young Uhtred’s direction. There is a heavy silence, and Finan can hear his heartbeats mingling with the growl of the thunder, alighting the sky regularly.Wihtgar shoots and Finan grabs his Lord’s son’s tunic, pushing him behind. His back is turned to Aelfric’s son and Finan doesn’t see the arrow piercing the leather and mail of his armor.orWhat if Beocca isn't the one hit by Wihtgar's arrow?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Is leatsa mo shaol

The time is terribly slow. A small rain is starting to fall on Bebbanburg’s fortress, droplets making their way under Finan’s leather armour, the chill accompanying the shiver that runs down his spine as Wihtgar, Uhtred’s bastard cousin, is now pointing his crossbow in Young Uhtred’s direction. There is a heavy silence, and Finan can hear his heartbeats mingling with the growl of the thunder, alighting the sky regularly. 

And then it’s fast again. Wihtgar shoots and Finan grabs his Lord’s son’s tunic, pushing him behind. His back is turned to Aelfric’s son and Finan doesn’t see the arrow piercing the leather and mail of his armor, however he does feel the distinct pain of the point sinking into the flesh of his shoulder. It is quick and when he realises what happened, the metallic point is already shining with blood and Young Uhtred stares at him with wide terrified eyes. 

The ache is thundering, resounding in his whole body as he falls on his knees, shook by the strength of the shot. The time is slow again, or quick, Finan can’t tell. He presses his hand on his wounded shoulder and he feels the blood spill through his fingers, too much to his liking, while the world arounds him agitates. 

“Finan!”

Sihtric’s face appears in front of him, and he has to narrow his eyes to see him clearly. “Sihtric.” He replies, his hands now finding his friend’s shoulder to keep himself straight. The Dane’s expression twists into a grimace at the blood that is now staining his own armour. Not of disgust, but of worry. Finan’s grip grows weaker and he eventually falls forward, Sihtric catching him just in time.

“Lord we need to join the ship!” Sihtric shouts and now Finan hears the sound of swords clashing around them. Uhtred shouts back, but he doesn’t understand. “Come on, Finan.” He grumbles in his ear, passing Finan’s safe arm above his shoulder. 

Quickly, other hands come to help Sihtric to put the Irishman back on his feet. His face is blurred, but Finan recognizes Osferth's panicked eyes before he has to close his own, the pain from his shoulder catching him a myriad of Irish curses. Sihtric’s arm is tightly wrapped around his waist, supporting Finan’s weight as he barks to clear the way. Finan barely sees what is happening, he simply tries to not stumble as they walk in the fortress and down the harbor they came from, but only that seems the greatest effort. He can feel every inch of the arrow in his muscle and he has to fight the pain to not drift into unconsciousness, his head falling regularly forward, his eyelids heavier than ever. 

“Finan, stay awake. We’re almost there.” He hears Sihtric say, his confidence trying to cover his worry. They finally succeed to join the harbor, the rain is now heavy forcing the men to shout to be heard. But moreover, a loud deafening crash resounded in the crypt. “Gods.” The Dane mutters under his breath. “Lord! We have to hurry!”

“Osferth untie the ship!” He recognizes Uhtred’s voice, opening his eyes now too difficult for Finan whomst strength seems to leave his body too quickly and before he could feel himself dragged in the boat, he falls into silence and darkness. 

Then, dreams and reality are mixed. Sometimes he can hear the screams of men, but he can’t tell if it’s his friends rowing to escape or the dead expressing their agony in the depths of Hell. Sometimes a shock of pain reminds him that he is alive, but only a grunt can escape his lips. At one moment, he feels someone lift his body, arms wrapped around his waist and his head falling back heavily on a shoulder. He is about to let himself fall into unconsciousness again, but the feel of cold water surrounding him makes him open his eyes suddenly, taking a deep breath. His hand searches something to grip desperately, too scared to drown if not. But the arms are still holding him tight and pulling him in the water. He grips one, but again, darkness surrounds him.

When Finan opens his eyes again, he is on the ground with a grey sky above him. He is soaked to the bone and freezing but he feels people working on getting him rid of his armor. “Start a fire! Quick!” One says, and Finan narrows his eyes until he recognizes Uhtred. He too seems wet and cold, his lower lips trembling as his fingers untie his leather chestplate. “Osferth, push him up.” Uhtred grabs his safe left arm to pull him while Osferth’s hands in his back are keeping him sat.

His armor is slowly leaving his body, but the chainmail is a much more difficult task, Finan is forced to move his injured arm to pull it over his head. He bits his inner cheek to not scream and the taste of blood invades his mouth when he is finally in his tunic. 

“We need to remove the arrow.” Sihtric says.

“But both sides of it broke. How are we supposed to pull it?” 

There’s a long silence following Osferth’s question and Finan wishes he had the strength to shout at them to find an answer. Someone kneels next to him and starts to tear his tunic appart with a dagger to better see the wound. Careful fingers touch the swollen skin around what remained of the arrow, making him grunt. 

“We need to make an incision to have a better grip.” Sihtric finally says and another long silence follows. 

“Alright.” Uhtred replies. “Do it then.”

“Someone needs to hold him. He needs to stay still.”

As soon as the order is given, someone grabs his legs firmly, keeping them against the floor while someone holds his chest and safe shoulder. Finan’s shaking breath starts to accelerate as he apprehends the pain, muttering a small prayer instinctively, barely audible. 

“Ready?” Sihtric asks, the point of his blade barely touching his skin. “Hold him.” 

And in a quick and firm pressure, the blade sinks into his flesh and Finan cries out in pain until there’s no more air in his lungs and tears have utterly blurred his vision. He feels his friends hold him tighter as his body shakes to escape Sihtric, his fingers curling to grip something until everything is dark again. 

This time, when Finan wakes up only a small fire is bringing light into the night. He blinks several times, his head hurting terribly, while he gets aware of the weight of furs on his aching body. There’s someone whispering next to him and he turns his head, discovering Young Uhtred, praying with his cross between his hands.

“Keep your prayers for someone else, lad.” Finan mutters but his throat is dry and he doubts the boy understood anything. 

But Uhtred drops his crucifix and leans above Finan, the fire revealing his relieved expression. “You’re awake.” He whispers and immediately stands up. “Father! He is awake.”

In a small matter of time, Finan is surrounded by too many people to count so he keeps his attention on Sihtric who brings his flask of water to his lips, Father Beocca helping him sitting to drink. Once he is satisfied, he lies down slowly, greeting his teeth as the movement reminds him of his wounded shoulder. He finally takes the time to look at his friends faces, the four of them seeming utterly relieved. 

“Well it’s good to see yall seem relieved I’m alive.” They all laughed as Finan smiled lazily, the small effort draining already too much of his energy. 

“You gave us a scare, Finan.” Osferth says. 

“I’m too stubborn to die, Baby Monk.” He grins and other laughs rise. Finan sinks his head more in the pile of furs used as a pillow, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. “How long have I been sleepin’?”

“Two days.” Uhtred replies. “But you still need rest.” Finan nods, disturbed by the amount of time he has been unconscious but eager to fall asleep again. His friends walk away one by one until just Uhtred remains. His Lord crouchs next to him, his hand amicably resting on his left shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for saving him.”

“He’s your blood, Lord. I’d give my life to save his just like I’d give it to save yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching this episode one morning while eating porridge, and this is what my mind came up with. 
> 
> I hope you liked it despite the angst! Comments are always appreciated to help me improve :))  
> Thank you for reading <3


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